


The One Where They All Live In The Same Apartment Block

by CoffinBean



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Domestic Fluff, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Relationships, I don't know, I'm not btw, M/M, This was a better idea in my head, an attempt at funny, bon appétit, chosen family, lots of hugging and pining, plus a pinch of gayness, they all live in the same apartment block, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26843590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffinBean/pseuds/CoffinBean
Summary: Does what it says on the tin:Germany National Team- except they all live in the same apartment block.Nothing ever goes as planned.
Relationships: Benedikt Höwedes/Mats Hummels, Julian Brandt/Kai Havertz, Mario Götze/Marco Reus, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Sami Khedira/Mesut Özil, Thomas Müller/Manuel Neuer
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21





	The One Where They All Live In The Same Apartment Block

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to post this- god knows I'll only regret and embarrass myself later.  
> Disclaimer: author is not a comedian, just a home grown clown with dumb ideas. 
> 
> I don't expect anybody to like this but if you do then I love you :,)
> 
> I couldn't fit all the characters into the first chapter- I wrote more than I thought I would- also I don't speak German (only self taught by 2 years) and don't live in Germany so please excuse any inaccuracies. I rely heavily on Google to amend my mistakes. 
> 
> I may add in more characters along the way. I have no idea where this fic is heading (sounds promising) so I'll be as surprised as you are. 
> 
> Thanks to anyone who actually reads through it. And to anyone else who at least stopped by, hope you have a good day/night. <3

“Thomas, where is the cat?” 

Thomas’ eyes immediately snapped up from the comic strip he was reading, whilst devouring a bowl of cereal with more speed than necessary, and flicked around the apartment in search of the ginger menace. When he couldn’t be spotted lurking under the furniture, or submerged in laundry or even napping within kitchen cupboards, he guilty glanced back at Manuel. 

“I thought you were keeping an eye on him,” Manuel reminded him. His face was succumbed by disappointment yet lacked any astonishment at the outcome of Thomas’ cat-sitting endeavour. 

“His name is Garfield!”

“I can’t believe you’ve named him as well now,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He put down the basket of dirty laundry, preparing to take on the new responsibilities that have been inevitably forced upon him. 

“We are looking after him,” Thomas countered, stuffing more cereal in his mouth without grace, “so he needed a name.”

“You were trying to look after him,” Manuel corrected, “now we need to go and find him.”

“Relax. Garfield needed exercise. He can’t be cooped up in a small apartment all day.” 

He then gestured to the interior with a wave of his spoon, as if Manuel hadn’t noticed the proportions of the apartment they lived in together.

“Thomas, you’re forgetting that Löw is coming today.”

Thomas almost dropped the spoon. His eyes shot to the calendar. September. Mr Jogi Löw, their stern landlord, who owned and rented out the apartments, was due for one of his monthly visits and rent collection today. 

“Scheiße!” 

Jogi’s visit only meant one thing: a deep inspection and a subsequent ridiculing and fining of those who broke his strict rules. One in particular, which currently filled Thomas’s head with blaring alarm bells was most likely due to be broken. The uncompromisable ban on pets. 

“Stay calm! We need to go and find Garfield!” Thomas declared. He disregarded his cereal and comic strip, thoughtlessly chucking the reading material across the counter and missing dramatically. 

“I am calm."

“Then we need to deep clean the apartment and remove any trace of him!” 

The last thing Thomas needed today was to get on Jogi’s bad tenant radar again. He clumsily scrambled across the kitchen. Other commitments be damned. Manuel couldn’t help but stare after him as he went and flung open the door, proceeding to step out into the hallway and wait for his company.

The last thing Manuel needed today was a wild cat chase on a Monday morning. He turned to pick up Thomas’ comic book and found himself scoffing at the title.   
Garfield. 

The life of a fat, lazy cat who eats all the lasagne. If only that was the case at hand currently. 

***

The last thing the neighbours needed today, on a Monday morning, was to be dragged into their comprehensive search. Manuel knew that from the moment he had stepped out of their apartment. Thomas then advised him that the best strategy was to start from their floor and work upwards, inquiring at each apartment for information on Garfield’s whereabouts.

“We’ll take notes of each suspect and draw up a picture of how and when Garfield disappeared.” 

“They’re our neighbours,” Manuel reminded him as they walked across the hallway to their neighbour. “I doubt they’ve taken the cat with pre-meditated malice” 

“You can never be certain.” 

This particular apartment belonged to Toni Kroos. They knocked on his door and though they were surprised that he answered, they were soon met with the same typical, blunt response that was always received by him. 

“You’re not my parcel.”

The door slammed. 

“Maybe he’s busy.”

“Maybe he’s guilty.”

An enlightening start. 

They knocked on a few other doors without response and so decided to proceed to the third floor. Thomas approached the home of whom he deemed to be somewhat more sociable neighbours, Mats and Benni. He knocked and waited. There was a bit of shuffling and the exchange of loud voices before Mats eventually answered the door. 

He raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow in question at their presence. Following the opening of the door, the inescapable aroma of sweet, fresh baking suddenly filled the hallway. Thomas didn’t hesitate to state the obvious. 

“Smells good. Benni’s baking?”  
“Yes. And no, you can’t come in.” 

“Mats? Who is it?” Benni called from within the apartment. 

“Just Thomas and Manuel.” 

“Invite them in,” was the reply.

Thomas smugly obliged before Mats, who’s face was almost twitching with annoyance (probably due to his early morning, not so immaculate image), could protest. Benni better not offer them my coffee, he thought bitterly, shutting the door after the unexpected guests. 

“We’re here about a cat,” Thomas announced. Manuel lingered near the door, seemingly eager to be finished with this causal catch up with the neighbours, with a similar bored expression that Mats wore on his face. “This cat.”

Thomas fished into this coat pocket, retrieving his phone and flashed Mats a photo of Garfield, paws deep in a box of müsli. 

“Has he stolen from you?” Mats asked, deadpanned.

“No, but he’s unsurprising missing,” Manuel replied, tone uncannily alike. 

“We need to find him before Jogi’s visit.” 

“Since when do you have a cat anyway?”

“Since last night. He’s a stray. We thought we could home him until the morning, then I could take him into work and get him checked over. Then he’ll probably be adopted,” Thomas explained.

At the vets, where Thomas was due to start his shift later, he had originally planned to take Garfield in before Jogi became aware of the feline’s visit.

“Well, that looks like it’s going well.” 

“He was cold and alone, Mats. Look at that poor face.” 

Mats continued to look at the photo. However he couldn’t bring himself to exhibit an emotional response this early, they would have to wait until opening hours for the empathy express, if that’s what they wanted. 

The silence was cut short by Benni who entered the room, much to Mats’ gratification, though the blonde seems somewhat flustered. 

“Morning. Thomas. Manuel.” He acknowledged with a tired smile. He pushed forward the plate he was carrying in their general direction. “Cookies?”

Both visitors gratefully accepted the offering. Thomas decided to postpone his inquiring of a certain cat for a more general inquiry of their wellbeing (much to Mats’ further annoyance as he had tried to usher them back towards the door.) 

“I’m stressed. I’m stress baking. I have a busy day,” Benni explained, “Did I mention I’m kinda stressed?” 

“I think,” said Thomas, biting the cookie slowly. 

“Please don’t tell me they’re over-baked.”

Mats repeated their visitors’ intentions diverting the attention away from Benni’s slow mental bake down. Thomas took the opportunity to flash the picture again, whereas Manuel continued to stand near the door, holding the abundance of cookies which had been shoved into his hands. 

“I have a cousin who’s looking for a cat. She would happily take him when you find him,” Benni offered.   
  
“But we would like a favour in return,” Mats interjected. Benni looked at Mats, bearing a look of disapproval, who just shrugged in return. 

Thomas looked at Manuel. Manuel looked at Thomas. A look of agreement with a hint of uncertainty was shared, although there was no room to argue with Jogi’s death sentence for their crime impending, and so it was quickly settled. 

“What is it?” 

***

Mats and Benni’s request was not outrageously unreasonable. It was agreed upon shortly and Thomas and Manuel proceeded to the fourth floor. 

The next apartment was home to their children, as Thomas dubbed. Others would know them better as university students but Thomas and Manuel figuratively, and emotionally, speaking adopted them and declared themselves to be the dysfunctional parents which they needed. 

They knocked. Joshua answered the door looking up at the visitors. 

“We haven’t done anything.” 

One of Josh’s many default greetings to Thomas and Manu.

“Well, you kinda have,” Manu answered, “We’re here for other reasons but Mats and Benni want their toaster back.” 

“It’s currently occupied. We’ll give it back later.”

“No can do, we need to return it now before Jogi arrives.” 

“What’s Jogi got to do with us borrowing the toaster and not giving it back?” Asked Josh, moving aside as Thomas and Manuel walked into their apartment. 

The apartment was slightly cleaner than usual, but rather the mess was more organised than completely eradicated. On the sofa, eyes fixed on the television, even as the visitors entered the room, was Serge and Niklas, who were eating noodles out of a mug and what appeared to be a watering can. Thomas and Manuel greeted them which was then returned in a monotone fashion. Not much else was said except for the acknowledgement of the baked goods. 

“Here, take them,” Manuel replied, shoving Benni’s cookies into the hands of Niklas. 

In the kitchen was Leon. He was with the wanted toaster and currently poking at the burning toast within with a knife. 

“No, no, no, no,” Manu exclaimed. “Don’t put knives in the toaster!”

“Let us help!” 

Thomas unplugged the toaster, chucked the burnt slice on the counter, and quickly left the room with the appliance. 

“Sorry kids but mummy and daddy need the toaster now.” 

In response arose a chorus of complaints with Joshua trying to block the path of the two adults but he was effortlessly nudged aside by Manuel. 

“We’ll bargain with you,” cried Leon.

“How can you bargain? It’s not even your toaster.” 

Thomas called back whilst leaving the apartment, “By the way, we’re looking for a cat, so if you see one around, we need to know immediately! He’s ginger and answers to Garfield” 

“Wait, wait- a cat? Maybe we can make a deal?” Josh tried before they closed the door.

“Don’t tell me you took the cat as well.”

“No. But we could help you look in exchange for a toaster.”

Thomas stopped and considered. The prospect of reducing their search time appealed to him and would definitely be beneficial. A toaster for a cat, plus the inclusion of not being reprimanded by Jogi, could be considered a small price to pay. 

He looked at Manuel. 

“I guess we could,” Manuel said. “But we’re only lending it. We’re not buying a new toaster.”

“For a year?” 

“Try a week,” replied Thomas. 

Leon shouted with a mouth full of burnt toast, “A month?”

“Leon!” 

“How about two weeks?” 

“Fine, fine, two weeks,” concluded Manuel, “but no more. And we better get it back afterwards.” 

“Is it too late to ask for three?”

“You’re skating on thin ice, mister!”

“Do you want the toaster or not?”

“I guess we have a deal then,” Josh stated and held out his hand in defeat. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

His hand is shook in return, sealing the contract of their soon-to-be exchange. Finally, Thomas could lay out his plans, as the two left the apartment with the addition of Josh and Leon. The door closed and the room was silent except for the television. 

“Should we have let them know we still have their microwave?” Serge asked Niklas suddenly, eyes still on the television. 

The other shrugged and took a swig of noodles from his mug. 

***

Sunlight kissed golden hair and the emergence of light, which softly blanketed skin, soon stirred Julian from his slumber. He’s sat in the passenger seat of the car, head pillowed in the crook of his elbow, against the window. His eyes glanced over to Kai who’s driving the car. They exchanged a smile. Julian yawned. 

“Good nap?” Asked Kai. 

“Yeah good,” Julian agreed softly. 

Julian realised at some point during his sleep Kai had given him his jacket. He took hold of the item of clothing, feeling the material between his fingers, and pulled it closer over his body. 

“Where are we now?”

“Nearly there.” 

Out of the windshield, growing in the distance was the tall grey structure of an apartment building, silhouetted against the burnt orange and yellow of sunrise. Julian leaned his head back against the window, suddenly feeling content at the sight. 

It was going to just be just him and Kai now. 

And they were nearly there. 

***

Leon and Josh tried Marco and Mario’s apartment. They knocked once, twice then several times without an answer. 

Josh looked to Leon.

“Maybe they’re out,” Leon suggested. 

“I doubt it. It’s too early for them.”

Abruptly, Josh decided to hammer on the door repetitively, making as much noise as he could muster, whilst shouting, “MARCO, MARIO, COME QUICK THE BUILDING IS ON FIRE! MARCO! MARIO!”

Within seconds a flustered Marco answered the door, dripping water with only a towel wrapped around his waist. 

‘I may have lied. But in good news, the building is no longer on fire.”

“For fuck sake, Kimmich! What do you want?”

“We’re looking for a cat.”

“Well I haven’t seen it. Now go away, I’m busy doing things.”

He slammed the door shut. 

“I think he’s referring to Mario,” whispered Leon. 

“I was taking a shower, you little shits!” Marco shouted from behind the door. 

Josh and Leon scrambled away to ask other neighbours. 

***  
On the fifth floor was the home of Mesut and Sami. The former of which was lying on the sofa with the verge of an incoming headache arising from the dispute outside of their apartment. The neighbours (Bernd who lived next door with Marc-André living opposite him) were having their daily row across the hallway over some trivial matter. 

Introducing this week’s topic of debate: The noise.

Of fucking course. 

This was often a common subject, with typical lines like “your radio is too loud” or “well so is your television” being exchanged, then becoming more nonsensical as the day goes on with “you could brush your teeth a little quieter” and “your breathing is so annoying” being thrown around until finally their doors would slam shut. 

Mesut rolled his eyes. He wanted to laugh at how oblivious they were to the noise they’re creating themselves but his head was pounding too much to even attempt it.

Instead, he coughed, “I want to move out of this place.” 

God, his head ached.

Sami was unpacking the shopping onto the counter and looked over to the sofa. He smiled sympathetically and put the orange juice in the fridge. Mesut automatically lifted his head as Sami approached the sofa, allowing him to sit, and returned it comfortably onto the older man’s lap. 

No matter how much Mesut denied it he was obviously coming down with a cold. Sami had recognised it from the casual coughs and snort sniffling which slowly became more and more prolonged during the previous day.

“How are you feeling?"

“Fine,” he muttered, which followed with an unconvincing string of coughs. “Okay. I’ve felt better. But I’m not ill, I'm just just displaying normal symptoms caused by the Leno and Ter Stegen virus. It’ll go away in an hour or so.”

“Well, I bought a remedy for that just in case.”

Among the groceries, Sami had bought cold tablets, fresh orange juice, a box of tissues, cough sweets, chicken soup, vapour rub, chocolate- okay, he might have gone a little bit overboard. But he aways does for the love of his life Mesut Özil. 

“I’m free all day. We can watch films with blankets and pillows and turn up the tv to drown out the sound of those self denial, balls of sexual tension who call themselves our neighbours.”

Mesut laughed, “Sounds perfect.”

There was a knock at the door and Sami reluctantly forced himself to leave the sofa. Upon opening, he revealed the faces of Thomas and Manuel. 

“Guten Morgen.”

“Have you seen a cat?” Thomas asked, projecting his voice over the continued arguing of the neighbours. 

“No. We’re kind of busy,” Sami replied, as if the couple were looking to come in. He heard Mesut shuffling around behind him. “It’s probably not a good time.”

“Yeah, näturlich. Please, if you could just keep an eye out for this cat…” Thomas digged his hand into his pocket for his phone, suddenly feeling nothing. “Mein gott, I’ve left my phone at Josh’s apartment!” 

“Sami, we’re out of cold tablets!” Mesut called within the apartment. 

“I’ve just bought some!”

“I can’t find them though.” 

“Hang on a minute,” Sami told the visitors. He rushed in and looked through the shopping bag, and when he doesn’t retrieve them like them like he had expected he read over the receipt again. “I must have left them at the shop. I’m so sorry, love!”

“Sami, it’s okay. I’m sure of the million other things you’ve purchased will suffice.” He coughed harshly.

Sami smiled as much as he could, feeling a slight tinge of guilt. Suddenly, he’s struck with an idea, given the arrival of their visitors. 

“Would you guys happen to have any cold tablets?”

Not another fucking favour- 

Thomas and Manuel nonchalantly replied nonetheless, “We can go and have a look.” 

“Dankeschön!” 

They were getting further and further away from their objective, whilst Jogi’s monthly visit still loomed over them like a black raven of death. Thomas and Manuel headed back to their apartment whilst the seconds of their impending doom ticked away gradually. 

***

It took a while for Mario Gomez to answer the door after Josh and Leon knocked on it. The tall, dark-haired man was somewhat frantic so the visitors spoke quickly, assuming he was in the middle of something important. 

“Have you seen a cat?”

He replied hastily, “Nope. Sorry. Got to go.” 

The door was then shut. However, before Josh and Leon even got the chance to turn away, Mario reopened the door. 

“I kind of need some help.” 

The problem of which he was referring to was shortly revealed as he let them into the apartment, through to the kitchen, but stopped at the threshold of the room. 

Leon started, “What’s wr-”

Cutting himself off, he looked to the floor where a small pond of water covered the surface. The cause was soon deduced from the piles of drenched clothing, the open door of the washing machine and the box of washing powder knocked over. In the air lingered the slightly burnt smell of bacon and Leon looked accordingly to the stove where the frying pan and charred rashes lay. 

“What happened?” Leon tried instead. 

“I put the washing in and everything was going okay because it usually does. So I started cooking some lunch and tried to take the washing out, and I don’t know why maybe the washing machine didn’t drain properly because all that water came out. Then I panicked, as I tried to look for something to clean it up with, then the bacon burnt, then I burnt myself trying to save it, then I kicked over the washing power. Now my kitchen is a wreck, the washing machine’s a wreck, I’m a wreck-”

“Slow down, okay, breath,” Josh said, motioning for the man to take some breaths. “We can fix this. Leon and I break things in the apartment all the time, right?”

“Absolutely,” Leon confirmed, “We’re experts in this field. Just this morning I dropped our last bowl.” 

“See. We’ve got this Mario. Now, do you have any tea towels?” 

“No. They were in the wash,” he cried, pointing to the soaked material on the floor. 

“Alright. What about paper towels?”

“I ran out this morning! My life is falling apart!” 

“Mario, sweetie, pull yourself together!” Shouted Josh. “We can get some more.” 

“Yeah, we’ll ask around.”

“Okay,” Mario sighed and nodded, still looking gloomily around the kitchen. 

The destruction could wait until later. At the moment, he decided to leave with Josh and Leon to hunt for some paper towels- and think positive thoughts as Josh insisted. Mario knew Leon or Josh probably wouldn’t hesitate to slap him if he got hysterical again, so he tried his best to repress the washing machine, and the clothes and the brunt bacon and the- oh god, stop thinking, he reminded himself. 

***  
“Okay we’re out of cold tablets!” Manuel announced, after they had turned their apartment cupboards upside down in a rapid search. On the plus side, they had managed to find the tv remote, which Thomas thought was a good idea to hide, so Manuel wouldn’t be able to change the channel during RuPaul’s drag race. 

“Now what?” 

Simultaneously, they had a moment of hive-mind, and looked at each other in realisation of the solution. 

In five minuets, they were outside the door of their neighbour, who also happened to luckily be a nurse, Jonas Hector. He answered. “Hey! Sorry. I’m just on my way to work-”

Thomas interrupted, “Sweet, kind neighbour Jonas, we won’t take up more than five minutes of your time!”

“Do you have any cold tablets?”

“We’re in need.”

Jonas displayed a look of confusion but continued, “Yeah, sure. I’ve got some.”

Thomas and Manuel bursted into a dramatic dialogue of praise, and Jonas, somewhat embarrassed and even more bewildered, left and returned with their request. 

“Bless!”

“Danke!” 

Jonas smiled. 

“Can we do anything in exchange?” Thomas dreaded, expecting another request, but asked anyway.

“Aw, no. Thank you. I don’t need anything.”

Thank god-

“You’re an angel. We love and appreciate you very much.” 

The two run off back to the Mesut and Sami’s. 

“By the way, if you see a ginger cat please let us know!”

“I will.”

Jonas shrugged and didn't think much of it. Sure, he’s confused, but this is normal. He’s excepted that fact long ago. 

***

Checking the time on his phone, Julian realised the landlord was due to arrive at any minute and give them the keys to their new home. To their new life. He smiled as Kai, who leaned against the wall, excitement written on the features of his face. 

Julian was now wearing Kai’s jacket. The other hadn’t asked for it back so Julian thought he must have forgotten. He secretly loved the feeling and how Kai’s clothes fitted him so well. It was like he could take a piece of him everywhere he goes, a reminder and comfort, even when Kai wasn’t around. He’s aware that he sounded cheesy so therefore decided to talk to preoccupy his stomach from the butterflies, which arose when his mind started to spew love-struck sentiments whilst thinking about the brunet. 

“I’ll make the first dinner,” Julian declared, “Since you drove us here.” 

Kai scoffed, grinning widely “So we’ll be getting take away then unless you manage to cook something edible.”

“My food is always edible!”

“We both know you can’t cook,” Kai argued, trying to make Julian think back to the time he served what he had called chicken soup with peaches and rice, or what Kai called disgusting. 

“Anyone can cook.”

“Famous words said by a talking rat; it gives me confidence knowing that you take advice from a cartoon, rather than an actual chef. Remind me to find some take away menus just in case when the kitchen starts burning.”

A new voice interrupted. “You must be Kai and Julius?” 

“Julian.” He corrected. 

The speaker was Mr Jogi Löw, the landlord with the stance and authoritarian air of a politician but with the hair and appearance of a member of a Beatles tribute band, who greeted them outside the building. He held out his hand. Julian and Kai inwardly cringed at the moistness of his grip when they shook it. 

“I shall show you in then. These are your keys…” As he talked, he handed the item over, explaining the regular procedures whilst gesturing around (with Julian and Kai quickly wiping their hands on their jeans when he turned his back). Jogi opened the main door and welcomed them into the entrance hall. “These are the mailboxes… how did a cat get in here?”

He exhaled in annoyance, picking up the ginger cat and putting him outside. He shut the door again. “Must have snuck in when one of the tenants came in,” Jogi continued, “As you probably know, we have a strict no pets policy.” 

Kai and Julian nodded in sync. 

“Now if you follow me I’ll show you to your apartment.” 

“By the way,” Julian whispered to Kai, following behind the landlord, “the quote wasn’t said by a rat. It was by chef Gusteau. Checkmate.” 

Kai rolled his eyes.

***

Firstly, they started with Basti and Lukas, then Leroy, then Timo, and finally finished with Jerôme when Leon, Josh and Mario started to think paper towels must be in short supply around here. This left them with no other choice. 

“No, whatever it is, I’m not believing any more of your lies,” Mats declared, when he opened the door. At this point, Mats spotted Mario and so he continued, throwing his advice at him. “They will ask for your forks and spoons, then your plates, you know all the small things and next minute you know they have your toaster. We’re not a charity, we’ll be giving you no more!”

He goes to close the door when Leon wedged himself between the frame. 

“Please we’re not here for your cutlery. We just need paper towels for Mario.” 

“Be gone!”

“Please.”

“No!”

Leon pushed through, running past Mats into the kitchen. 

“Benni, defend the coffee machine!”  
“What?”

Leon tried reasoning, “Benni, please, we just need some paper towels. They are for Mario because his washing machine broke and he’s upset and we also need to go and find Thomas’ cat. You have a good heart Benni, please help us, unlike that coffee drinking fiend you call a boyfriend.” 

He pointed to Mats who ran in, after probably trying to keep out the other, believing this was some sort of raid for their kitchen appliances. 

“We’re sorry we took your toaster. And everything else. We would give back the paper towels if you gave us some, but you know, they’re not reusable.” 

Benni looked at them perplexed, mouth ajar, eyes darting between Mats and Leon, trying to absorb everything that was said. He was clearly in the middle of baking, his hands held a tray full of brownies, with the kitchen counters filled and balancing other cakes and biscuits precariously. 

He answered, “Yeah, they’re over there.” 

Leon darted to them.

Mats complained, “Benni!” 

“They’re just paper towels. We’re helping our neighbours.” 

“You know this won’t stop right. They’ll be back for our apartment tomorrow and I won’t say I told you so!”

“You’re being a bit crazy.”

“Me? Have you looked at our kitchen?"

Benni looked around, “I don’t see a problem. I’m just baking.” 

“No this is psychotic behaviour disguised as baking!” 

“Okay then, I’m just going to head out now, thanks for the paper towels,” Leon interrupted, heading for the door.

“Take some brownies!” 

“Benni!”

“Mats!” 

Likewise, Mats marched towards the door, yelling, “I’m going upstairs to Marc’s!”

Outside the apartment, he pushed past Leon and Josh (the pair with faces crumbling and ready to explode with laughter at Mats’ tantrum over the paper towels) and Mario who still looked slightly miserable. 

“Could you thank Benni for the brownies?”

He flipped them off.

***

Their frustrating journey was slowly becoming more and more tiresome. Thomas could see the effects of it starting to impact Manuel’s mood who had given up most of his morning to help Thomas to no avail. 

“Maybe Garfield left. Maybe someone found him and took him home, maybe -” Manu stringed together a long list of hypotheticals, as they climbed back down, possibly to try and explain their lack of success. Possibly, to make the wasted hours seem less fruitless. 

They stopped in the stairwell, midway between the third and forth floor, when Mats started walking up.

“Has Benni phoned his cousin yet?”

Mats sulked past.

He muttered, “go ask him yourself!”

Continuing up the stairs, without once setting a glance at the two, he’s soon out of sight. Thomas turned to Manuel. 

“Maybe Garfield did leave. Maybe I’m an awful vet, I couldn’t even look after one cat,” Thomas sighed. “Maybe I’m going to have to take full responsibility for something that is one hundred percent my fault.”

“You’re not an awful vet.”

“So no reassurance or denial of those other things I said?” 

“Well…” 

Thomas let out an exaggerated groan, turning to the large windows of the stairwell which overlooked the small carpark and green field bathed in the warmth of the rising sun. He looked at the vehicles and spotted Jogi’s car. 

“Satan’s here.” 

Manuel joined him. 

“Do we have any holy water?” Thomas asked.

“Unfortunately no.”

“Could we buy some?”

“Also no, as much as I would like to see you throw holy water at him, you’re just going to have to face the music. But I’ll be there with you.”

“Could we steal his car and run away to Australia”

“How would that help?”

“I don’t know, it’ll just funny.”

They turned to leave, heading down the stairs. Thomas looped his arm around Manuel’s waist and the taller man mimicked his gestures, pulling Thomas closer, as they descended back towards their apartment. 

Thomas mused to himself, thinking of Jogi turning into a puddle, if they threw holy water over him, with the only thing remaining being his intact bowl of raven hair. Look for holy water on eBay, he mentally noted. 

The grim reaper was here. There was no escape. The time had come. 

“Ah, scheiße!” Thomas announced suddenly, untangling himself from Manuel. “I forgot, I need to get my phone before Josh tries to sell it or something! You can go back to the apartment, I’ll be right back!” 

He ran off in the direction of the apartment. Manuel watched him go before heading back to the comforts of their own apartment. His stomach grumbled, reminding him of his lack of food from that morning. A bowl of cereal will do just fine, he thought. 

***

“You again?” Josh asked when he answered the door. “We couldn’t find your cat.” 

“I know. I’ve decided to wave my white flag and admit defeat,” Thomas sighed. He walked in, noticing the boys were still crowded on the raggedy sofa, surrounding the tv displaying some cooking program. At least they have stopped eating noodles out of gardening equipment. 

“It’s been a honour serving with you Captain,” Leon saluted with a smile.

“If Jogi does shout and decides to commit murder, could we have your bookshelf? You know as something to remember you by?”

“I’ll put it in my will somewhere,” Thomas replied. “But I’ll like my phone back so I can spend my final moments taking picture of how cute Manuel is.”

“Ew,” Josh commented, pointing near the window. “it’s over there somewhere.”

“How did it get over there?”

“You’ll be surprised what happens in this apartment sometimes,” Leon answered. “I think we have a kitchen ghost. We’ve named him Tyler. He flickers the lights and once ate all of Serge’s linguini.” 

“Nope, that was just me,” Corrected Niklas. 

“Niki!”

The boys squabbled in the background as Thomas looked around. He found his disregarded phone on the floor, atop a pile of forgotten notepads and textbooks. No damage done. However, there was several new photos in camera roll, unsurprisingly. For whatever reason, one of the four children had been taking pictures of birds on the balcony, throwing slices of bread at them from behind the screen, and capturing the moments in blurry landscapes.

Delete. Delete. Delete. 

Thomas paused. He enlarged a photo as a vivid background detail catched his eye. A ball of orange fur, on closer inspection, drawed into the focus to reveal a certain Garfield sat in the tree near the balcony. 

“OH. MEIN. GOTT!”

Eyes turned to Thomas. The noise ceased. No one spoke, expect the monotone instructions and sizzle of cooking from the tv. He spun around and locked eyes with the ginger cat, still perched cooly within the branches, without the slightest guilt of Thomas and Manuel’s early morning labour. 

“Hey. Isn’t that your cat?” Niklas asked. 

“He was in this tree the whole time!” Thomas exasperated. 

Pulling open the balcony door (which had taken more effort than he originally thought as the fucking handle was broken- seriously, was there anything that hasn’t been destroyed yet?), he stepped out. Thomas was about arms width away from the tree. The branches could be easily grasped from where he stood, fingertips ghosting over the autumn leaves.

“What’s the plan, Captain?” Josh asked. 

“Take out the cat.”

“That’s a bit dark.”

“No- out of the tree!”

“Could try throwing something, see if he’ll come down himself,” Serge suggested.

Thomas shook his head. They have spent too long thinking of scenarios. It was time to do what he does best- acting without thinking. “I started this so I should be the one to finish it. I’m going in.”

The children cheered as their disaster father figure clambered into the tree without further hesitation. 

“He’s my hero,” said Niklas wiping away a tear. 

***

“And what about these?”

Within seconds of stepping foot into their apartment, Kai and Julian wasted no time to start decorating and organising their belongings. Well, the few belongings they owned anyway. They started with their most treasured possessions. 

Julian, after hanging a framed photo of their school football team, turned around to look at Kai, who was stood holding the houseplant which he was inquiring about. 

Julian replied, “How about the window in the kitchen?” 

“Cool.” 

“Oh, take these as well!” 

From the moving box, Julian passed Kai the two matching mugs they had once bought for each other, coincidentally in a secret Santa (in particular, white mugs completed with a black J painted and identical K on the other). 

“Is it me or is this going too well?”

“Huh?”

Kai clarified, “like we haven’t broken anything yet, we haven’t cried or even so much as lost anything. I expected us at least forget most of our luggage. So far we may actually be keeping our shit together.”

“Yeah,” Julian laughed as Kai disappeared into the kitchen. He called after, “if we keep this up we may be able to make it till we’re thirty.”

“Could you imagine us being responsible adults who plan out their weeks in advance and have a regular routine?” 

“Not a chance. Spontaneity is my middle name and I vow to live up to it.” 

He followed the younger man into the kitchen after sticking more photos of his brother’s photography to the wall. 

“Wow, you’ve decorated well in here. You’ve really placed that plant nicely. It makes those dirty cream walls pop and look so vibrant.” 

“You think so?” Kai mocked. 

They stood in the kitchen and looked at each other. It was only when the silence set in and the ticking of passing time protruded through the void that they started to panic that their new lives may turn into a monotonous affair. 

“This is boring isn’t it?” Kai commented. 

“Do you want to break a few plates and go shopping tomorrow?”

Kai smiled, “You always know how to clear me up.”

At that moment, their prayers for excitement and the unusual to be thrusted upon them are answered, although the angel to grant them this was no holy figure, but rather a skinny, wild man who took an ungraceful tumble out of a tree outside the kitchen window. Julian and Kai watched him, lying on the grass before he sat up a little dazed and confused within the old, golden leaves. 

“Do you want to go and check if he’s okay?” Julian asked.

“Absolutely.” 

They raced outside without further discussion, following the voice of their inner child.

***

In the end Jogi never found out about the cat. The only thing he got mad about was Thomas falling out of a tree and breaking his arm, threatening to somehow to take away their balcony privileges (though no one understood how he planned to enforce such an empty threat anyway) if it happened again.

Julian and Kai ended up driving Thomas to the hospital, which was the first time they meet- not that Thomas could recall afterwards anyway, being mildly concussed. The only words he said were that this is a story they should tell their grandkids and insisted it was one they should treasure forever. 

Manuel arrived shortly afterwards, half concerned, one quarter panicked and one quarter annoyed at Thomas’ dumb actions, having been told the story by Joshua, Leon, Niki and Serge. But they might have exaggerated a little, with words like “wrestled” and “30 foot drop”, and so was relived to see Thomas in one piece. 

He took Thomas home with his arm in the fresh cast. Neither of them paid much attention to Jogi’s belittling scorn when they arrived, only interacting with him to pay the monthly rent and therefore see him gone from their sight but most importantly for the sanity of their ears. 

Thomas signed, settling on the sofa, “I could use a bowl of cereal.” 

“Me too.”  
Manuel sat next to him, wrapping him arms around Thomas. 

“The trouble’s over now. Benni took the cat to his cousins and gave us more cookies.” 

“Of course he did.”

Thomas snuggled into Manuel’s side. 

“So are you going to get that cereal?” Thomas grinned.

“Depends. What do I get in return?”

“Anything you want later.” 

Thomas wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. He had never seen Manuel move off a sofa so quickly.

Today was the first of many, of beginnings and lessons, for better and for worst.


End file.
